Teddy's Tears
by blueblackangel
Summary: This is a series of sad experiences in Teddy's life before the movie. Chapter 1: Meeting Chris and Gordie. 2: The Burning of the Ear, Father's POV. 3: Dad going to the nut house and meeting Ace and Vern. Finished.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Stand by Me.

Summary: A short story of how Chris and Gordie met Teddy and learned about his ear. Very sad. ONESHOT.

Teddy's Tears

"We're almost done," says Gordie's mother, "Just let them check up on your brother and then we'll leave."

"'Kay," mumble Chris and Gordie. They look at each other and giggle slightly at responding at the same time with the same tone and pitch.

"Hey? Can Gordie and I go see my cousin?" asks Chris suddenly, "It'll only be a minute. She works by the ER."

"It's a big hospital…" trails the mother anxiously.

"Don't worry, we won't get lost." Chris winks at both Gordie and his mother.

"Alright, just a minute, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Thank you, mom," says Gordie, leaving with Chris down the huge, white hall of the hospital. Safely out of the mother's earshot, Chris asks,

"So, you go to a hospital for a regular doctor's appointment?"

Gordie shrugs. "The doctor is real good. This is the only place where his office is, so we have to come here."

"Why not get a new doctor?"

"My parents really like this doctor. Which way are going?"

"I told you, down to the ER. That's where my cousin works. She's leaving next week and I want to see her."

"Oh. Where is she going?"

"I don't know, but she says there's a good job offer where she's moving," says Chris, "The ER is this way." The two boys abruptly turn down into another hallway. At the end of the hallway, Gordie sees double doors and hesitates slightly. Chris, sensing the hesitation, gently encourages his friend through the doors. As soon as they open the doors they see an old man being rolled in the same room through another set of doors crowed by doctors and nurses. As quickly as he enters he leaves. "People don't stay in this room very long," explains Chris, "This is like the waiting room for the ER, in case there's a lot of people."

"Oh."

"My cousin must be with a patient."

"Ooh."

"You wanna wait here?"

"Yeah," says Gordie, "I can't believe I've never been here."

"Well, it is the ER. You have to be having an emergency to get in here unless you know people."

Two more people are rushed in and out of the waiting room. The boys chat quietly among themselves, ignoring the commotion of the patients going in and out. Then the boys hear a new sound. The door is opened louder than usual and they hear a woman mutter anxiously. They look up. There's a woman holding a boy their age by the hand, storming through the room, demanding to see a doctor. Suddenly, the doors open again and a man walks in, hands held up. The woman turns and yells at him, "Get away! Get away!"

"Honey…"

"My son needs a doctor!" she screeches. Chris and Gordie watch the scene in frozen, silent shock. "He needs a doctor! Someone!"

"Let me see…" starts the man again.

"You stay away! Stay away from my son!"

"He's my son, too! Don't tell me what to do!"

"Stay away!" The woman plants herself between her husband and her son. "Stay away!"

"Mom," whispers the boy.

"Theodore, it's alright," says the mother softly to calm her son.

"Let me…let me see him, please," asks the father.

Gordie elbows Chris and quietly asks, "What's going on?" Chris shrugs.

"No, I don't trust you near him."

"Daddy…"

"See," exclaims the father, "He's calling me! Me!"

"Get away! Stay away!" insists the mother.

"What's going on?" asks a passing nurse, "The noise in here is too loud. You're disturbing the other patients."

"My son," says the mother, "My son needs a doctor. Look at his ear, see?"

At that moment, another patient is rushed in, an elderly woman on a stretcher, clutching her chest.

"He needs a doctor," repeats the mother.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this woman needs a doctor more," says the nurse and she leads the stretcher through the same doors that Chris and Gordie had entered. The boy's gaze follows and he turns his head. It takes everything the boys have not gasp at the other boy. His ear is burned and some parts black, some parts have blisters. Chris and Gordie quickly figure out what's wrong. The father, somehow, had caused this injury, and the mother doesn't want the father near their son.

"I need to see him," tries the father again.

"No," she growls darkly, "You stay away! Stay away! Don't come near him!"

"Let me see him. He needs me…"

"Needs you? Needs _you?_ You burned his ear!"

The boy slowly and silently wanders from his mother, clutching his ears (lightly touching the burned one) in vain hopes of blocking out the fight.

"Look, I stormed the beaches of Normandy and-"

"Shut up! Shut up with your storming the beaches of Normandy! You're not the same. You're crazy."

"It was war…"

"I want you to go away. Leave me and Teddy alone. You're crazy!"

"Mom, stop," whispers the boy, Teddy. Chris and Gordie look at Teddy and see that he's almost crying.

"You're crazy! Go Away!"

"Mommy, daddy?" Teddy whimpers, "Stop. He's not crazy."

"See! He doesn't think I'm crazy!" shouts the father, "I went to war…"

"Go Away!" shrieks the mother in hysterics, "Get in a crazy house where you belong! You're not the same man I married, not the same father to Teddy…"

"Tell me again to go to the looney bin and I swear…"

"Go! Leave us alone! Go to the mental hospital!"

"Mom! Dad!" cries Teddy, still trying very hard to not cry.

"They've got to stop," whispers Gordie.

"I know," replies Chris frustrated, "Look what they're doing to him."

"They've got to stop," repeats Gordie. Then, as if by miracle, four nurses rush in the room.

"Stop the commotion!" shouts one of the nurses. Two of the nurses usher the raging parents out the room.

"Dad! Daddy!" cries Teddy, running up to him, "I don't think you're crazy. You stormed Normandy."

"Teddy," interrupts the anxious mother, "Let the people check on your ear."

"Mom-"

"I want you to get better all right?" says the mother weakly while being ushered out, "Get better for mommy."

"Come here," says a nurse kindly. She gently walks Teddy to the only chair, right next to Chris and Gordie, "Sit down and we'll see if we can get you a room, okay?"

Teddy nods weakly. When the nurses leave, he releases heart-wrenching sobs. At first, Chris and Gordie can only stand and watch, neither knowing what to do. They watch and listen to Teddy cry. Finally, Chris goes over to him and puts an arm around Teddy's shaking frame. Gordie walks awkwardly to Teddy and holds his hand, while Chris murmurs, "Hey, it's okay. I think it's cool that you're dad went to war." Teddy continues to sob. "It's okay," continues Chris, "It's okay. I'm Chris by the way, this is Gordie."

Teddy takes a few deep breaths and looks at Chris and Gordie. "I'm Teddy," he finally says.

"Hey, Teddy," says Chris, "I don't your dad is crazy."

"Yeah," says Gordie, joining in for the first time, "You're dad stormed Normandy."

Teddy nods and whispers, "Thank you."

* * *

_Author's comments!_

_My one and only _Stand by Me _fanfic. My first and last. I hope you enjoyed it, and in case you're wondering, Chris and Gordie end up walking quietly back to Gordie's mom when Teddy got his ear checked up. (They don't see Chris's cousin). Teddy is my favorite character, closely followed by Chris, and I hope my one shot did him justice. Please don't tell me you hate the mom. Just think, if your spouse just burned your kid's ear, how would you feel? _

_Tell me what you think, what you like, don't like…just review, please?_


	2. Hero

Summary: My version of how Teddy's father burned his ear, through his father's point of view. Hopefully very emotional.

Recommended Music: For the beginning, something like "I'll Stand by You" by the Pretenders and when Teddy's dad loses it (It's painfully obvious when it happens) "Perfect" by Simple Plan. Those are the songs I listened to while writing this.

I don't own Stand by Me.

Hero

"Lookie here, boy. This is how you eat peanuts. See, you crack the shell and hold the peanut on your thumb like this and flip it, like you're flipping a coin, and pop!" I chewed the peanut that successfully landed in my mouth.

"You're crazy, dad," said my only son, Teddy, laughing as he watched his dad play with his food.

"I bet I can get it in your mouth. Here, here open your mouth," I said taking aim.

"Okay, okay," he agreed, opening his mouth. "Go!"

"Three, two, one!" I lightly tossed the peanut in Teddy's mouth.

"Goal! Whoo!" cheered Teddy, chewing the peanut, "Let me try!"

"Okay, but you better not miss," I teased.

"I won't, I won't! Okay, three, two, one!" He missed and hit my eye. Before I could form the words, Teddy's mouth was racing, "Wait, wait! Let me try again! I can do it!" He hit the exact same spot. "Okay, dad, you need to move."

"What?"

"Move your head up a little…yeah, like that. And open your mouth bigger. Bigger, bigger. It's not big enough, dad."

"I can't get it any bigger!"

"Yes huh, now stop talking. I'm gonna get this, watch." I felt something land on my tongue, a peanut. He did it.

"Good job," I grinned. I stuck out my tongue to show him the peanut. He cheered and gave himself a round of applause. "Come here, Teddy." He scrambled toward me and I grabbed him in a big hug. "We should do this every day, huh Teddy?"

"Yeah, dad," he said, relaxing against my chest.

"Or at least every time your mother is out," I said, "When you get older, we can do more manly things."

"Manly?"

"When you're older, Teddy," I said.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "As long as we're together. And we'll be together forever."

"Until you go to college and meet all those college girls," I laughed.

"Or I can be in the army like you." I sighed and Teddy immediately sensed the subdued atmosphere. "Dad, I want to be like you. I know you say I shouldn't be in the army, but I want to be a hero like you. I want to be in all those war stories and be a hero! Wouldn't that be awesome?"

I couldn't argue with that, "Yes, it would."

"I know you say it's very dangerous-"

"Teddy, I almost lost my life. I can't imagine almost losing you. Teddy, I love you."

He snuggled against my chest, "Dad, I love you, too. I want you to be proud of me. I can join the army and be a hero, just like you."

I stroked his hair comfortingly and said, "Teddy, you don't have to prove anything to me. I love you just the way you are." He was silent, but I could tell he was thinking about joining the army, with all my stories, making me proud. Then I heard his stomach growl. "Time to eat," I said.

"I'm not hungry," he protested, but his stomach disagreed, "Let's keep eating peanuts."

"Nope, time to eat a real meal."

"But you can't cook. Only mom can cook," he said, as if explaining a simple fact of life.

"Aw, I can cook, too. I went to war, stormed those French beaches, fought in combat. If I did all that, I think I can cook a meal."

"Nope, only mom can cook. You always said that you never ate any real food in the army. I want real food. And only mom can cook real food."

"Alright," I said picking him up off the ground and holding his body around the back of my neck, kind of like those people did in the pictures when it showed the Ancient Jews sacrificing goats and lambs, "Time to prove you wrong."

"Dad! Put me down!" But his laughter asked for the contrary.

"To the kitchen! All men to your posts!" I teased him.

"This man is airborne!" shouted Teddy in my ear. Boy, the kid had some lungs. "He's still airborne!"

"Okay, okay, I'll put you down, just stop shouting. War makes your ears sensitive."

"Whatever, dad," he said as I put him down. I started up the stove.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Peanuts."

"Teddy, I'm cooking real food."

Teddy shook his head and sighed, "How many times do I have to tell you? Only mom can cook real food."

"Boy, you wouldn't know real food if it came out and bit you on the nose," I laughed. I rummaged through the pantry in hopes of finding some easy to cook food.

"Dad, are you sure you're not talking about you?" he said.

"Teddy, you're very stubborn, I'll give you that." I found some chicken noodle soup. Usually, we only ate it if someone was sick, but cold season had just started, so I put it on the counter and reached for a pot.

"Dad, you're going to burn the soup," complained Teddy.

"Teddy, today you're going to learn that your old man can cook," I said, still looking for a good size pan.

"Whatever you say," said Teddy, obviously unconvinced.

"I found the pot," I said picking the pot. Then, I had a little case of butterfingers and dropped it with an ear-splitting, deafening clang…

"Wow that was loud." But I didn't say that. I looked around, certain I was in an enemy hideout. I reached for my gun that wasn't there. Them damn Nazis must have taken it! I looked around again, paying much more attention my surroundings. I was in an old kitchen, with peeling white paint all over the walls, a wooden table with three chairs in the middle of the kitchen, but what caught my attention was the small boy looking at me with a very confused expression.

"Dad?" he said.

Who is he? Why did he call me 'dad'? Is that some Nazi term codename? This whole place is crawling with Nazis; I could feel it. I had to destroy all of them. I wouldn't leave one alive; they would come over to the U.S. and take us over. It was all up to me. I had to kill them. After seeing no one else around, I decided to start with the boy, obviously a spy.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

"Shut up!" I almost shouted, "What are you?"

"W-what?"

I almost reached for my gun, but I remembered I didn't have it. I walked toward the boy, who slowly walked backwards. I looked behind him and saw a stove. A closer look revealed that the stove was on. A brilliant idea came to me then. It's the perfect way to show those Nazis that Americans mean business.

"What are you, Nazi? A spy? Going to Nazi academy or whatever the hell you do?"

A look of shock and absolute fear crossed his face, "No, it's me, Teddy."

"Not talking, huh?" I said, walking toward the spy forcing him closer to the stove. Luckily, the spy didn't seem to know my plan.

"Not again," it whispered, "It's me, Teddy! Your son! Dad, listen! Listen to me!"

I grabbed its hair and it screamed in terror, "You know the Allies said that and did you listen to them? Did you?"

"I'm sorry! I'll listen to them! Please, listen to me! Dad, come back!" Despite the spy's best efforts, he couldn't wriggle free my grasp of his hair. "Please! It's Teddy!"

"No chance in hell, spy!" I grabbed both of his skinny, flailing arms in one hand and steered him toward the stove. I pushed myself against him and squished him against the stove with my body. I let go of his arms; they were trapped now, and moved my free hand to his neck. "No chance in hell," I whispered. I forced his head down toward the stove, ignoring his screams of protest, and turned his head so that his ear would be burned first. I would torture the spy until he gave up the whereabouts of the other Nazis. I forced his head against the stove.

Screaming filled my ears and almost disoriented me, but I persisted. I pushed harder and harder until I was sure the spy was in pain. The screaming was unavoidable and expected. Without a word, I held his head on the stove until the spy's next words shot up two octaves higher than normal.

"Dad! STOP! It's me!"

I ignored it. The voice pierced straight through another octave.

"It's Teddy! Your son! DAD!" And it crippled me. I couldn't take that high pitched sound. I felt very disoriented and subconsciously let the kid go… I rubbed my throbbing temples and looked around. I was surprised to see Teddy crying in the corner.

"Teddy, what's wrong?" I asked gently.

Teddy looked up and wiped his tears. After sniffling a bit he asked, "Are you back?"

"Am I back? From what?" I asked. Teddy didn't answer. He looked at me warily, wiping stray tears. Then it hit me. The only time he asks that is if I lapse from reality. If I think very hard, I can remember what I did, but after a look at Teddy, I figured it must have been real bad. I knelt down to his level. He flinched. "What did I do?" I asked.

He slowly maneuvered himself around me and bolted from the kitchen into the living room. "Teddy!" I called and I ran after him, easily catching up with him. I grabbed his arm and forced him to look at me. "Teddy what happened?" I asked him seriously.

"Leave me alone," he whimpered, close to tears.

"Teddy…" but I couldn't finish; he had turned his head-I saw and I remembered. I numbly let go. He bolted again. After shaking off the numbness, I ran after him and quickly caught him. "Teddy I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I feel so horrible about this." Teddy ignored me and struggled futilely against my grip on his arm. "Listen to me, Teddy. Listen." He stopped struggling. "Look at me," I pleaded. To my surprise, he turned and looked at me. I dropped his arm, but he didn't run. I looked closely at his tear-streaked face. It held so much fear and pain and confusion that I just hugged him closely, minding his ear, and held him against me. He lay limp in my embrace. I let go to see his eyes and sat down to explain myself.

"Teddy, my son, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," I began already fighting my own tears. "You didn't deserve that; you didn't deserve any of that. I don't…" I took a deep breath to keep my voice even, "I don't deserve you or your mother. I went to war to make it even, I guess. I wanted to deserve you two and now look I did to you. Teddy Duchamp, I love you so much. I would live the horrors of war again for you and your mother. Hell, I'd live through a lifetime of war, if it means keeping you safe. But I can't even keep you safe from myself."

"I was scared, dad," whispered Teddy, "You burned me."

That was heart breaking. I swallowed hard. "Teddy, I'm sorry. Please, believe me." He looked at me carefully, his eyes searching for something. I continued, "Teddy, I'm no hero. But, Teddy, I love you. I need you to know that. I know I'm crazy and not worth it but-" I paused.

Teddy came toward me hesitantly and grabbed my hand. He crawled into my lap. "Dad?"

"What?"

"I think you're a hero. You stormed the beaches of Normandy. You're not crazy," he paused a bit and sniffled some.

"Teddy," I said, hugging him while he stayed in my lap. "You're too kind."

"I love you," he said. Tears leaked from my eyes.

"Me, too." I paused, then said, "We should check your ear." I heard the door open and knew instantly my wife was home. She came straight to us, already knowing that something was seriously wrong.

"What happened?" she asked, panic-stricken.

* * *

_Author's comments_

_Boy, I'm tired. I lied last chapter and I'm not sure how many fanfics I'll do. Really tired, but before I got really tired, I almost cried writing this, especially the beginning. I hope it was real emotional, that's what I was aiming for, but I'm tired so I can't be sure. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope it was original. What happens next is in chapter one. This is the first time I've written in first person, so it was kinda like an experiment. In case, you've never read any of my other fanfics, I usually write in the present tense, I'm pretty I slipped up a couple of times._

_As always, review! Tell me what you liked, disliked, mistakes, your favorite part and so on._


	3. Losing Innocence

Summary: Wow, I can't believe I'm doing Chapter 3

Summary: Wow, I can't believe I'm doing Chapter 3. Well, this is his father being sent away. The first part is the mother's point of view and the second Teddy's.

Losing Innocence

* * *

(Mrs. Duchamp POV)

"I'm very glad we had this meeting, Mrs. Duchamp. Things will get better for you and your son, you'll see."

"He'll get better? My husband? He will get better, right?" I asked. We sat in my living room; the lights were ominously dim and the other occupants of the living were two men from Togus, representatives from mental institution near there.

"Yes, ma'am," said the one with greasy hair. The other one looked relatively normal, but the light was very dim.

"Good, 'cause we tried, Teddy and I. We tried so hard…"

"I know ma'am," said the normal one.

No, you don't, I thought, you don't know a thing. You don't know how in love I was when I married him, how happy I was when Teddy was born, how angry and scared I was when he went to war. You have no clue. When he came back, he was so quiet and withdrawn. It took a month of combined effort of Teddy and I to get him to talk to us. After he started talking, everything was great. He was normal and I didn't have to fear any of those war stories that said men come back changed, sometimes for the worse.

"Look, mister, I just want to be able to tell Teddy that his father will getting better."

"I understand," he said.

No, you don't. You don't understand how it feels to find your son burned by his father. You don't know how it feels to have your son beg you to let the same man who burned his ear to stay. You don't understand how depressing and frustrating it feels to have things actually be better for a time after the burn, then to have it all crashing down…

"The reason," I said trying to get it through their skulls that my husband must get better, "I didn't call you earlier is because Teddy and his father formed a bond that many other sons and fathers would envy. They had something special. For six months after he burned Teddy's ear, he was completely normal. No lapses or anything. Then, they came suddenly and without warning. We worked through it, Teddy and I, we worked so hard. He's always so sorry afterwards and Teddy's naïve enough to forgive him over and over again. He goes after Teddy and I! He thinks we're Nazis and now, I can't deal with it. It's taking a toll on Teddy, though Teddy tries so hard to hide it. Hell, his one of his friends, Chris I think, came to me and asked what's wrong with Teddy." I paused. "What if he tries to kill us? What if he buys a gun and shoots my son when I'm not at home? What if he loses it in public and Teddy and I can't stop it?"

"That's why we're here, ma'am," said the greasy-haired one somewhat soothingly, "To make things safe for you, your son, and your husband."

"Don't worry," said the other one, "Everything will be alright. Tonight, he'll be out of your hands."

I nodded. "What time did you say?"

"Around eleven, eleven-thirty." They started walking out the door.

"Okay, I'll tell them." I closed the door behind them and sighed. Then I sensed something move in the dim light. My eyes adjusted and I found Teddy standing halfway behind the wall wearing pajamas; he was taking his bath during the meeting. I had hoped that the meeting would be quicker than it was and now I was pretty sure that Teddy heard enough to sum up the situation, if the his confused and saddened expression were any clue. I walked toward him and knelt down to his level.

"Teddy," I said quietly, "I need to talk to you."

"Who were they?" he asked.

"Those were men from Togus – I forgot their names – and they were here to see if your father could get better."

"But didn't we call doctors? They said he might…"

"Teddy," I said sternly, "He's not getting better. I can't even leave him alone with you in the same room."

"But he might…"

"Teddy. Dad will be going away."

"What?"

"He will, tonight. He will go to the mental hospital, Togus."

"He doesn't have to," Teddy whispered, "He really doesn't have to."

I grabbed his shoulders to force him to look at me. "He has to. Teddy, I know you love him. I love him, too. I love him so much…" I swallowed, successfully forcing unnecessary tears back, "I love him and you love him, but we lost him. Do you understand that? We lost him. God, Teddy, I love him. But, he's lost and it's obvious that we can't get him back."

"We did, though," argued Teddy, "For awhile, we did."

"But, Teddy, we lost him. No matter how hard we try we can't. We can't control it. I don't know what brings on these lapses; it's unpredictable. And I can't keep protecting you from him. He's so much stronger than I am." Lately, I've adopted a bear's approach to mothering around Teddy's father. I always make sure I know where Teddy and his father are and make sure I'm not too far away, just in case my husband snaps. This has actually Teddy's life on a few accounts.

"But I'm getting stronger. He won't always be this way," said Teddy. Teddy also changed his ways around his father. I've noticed he's rather protective of me when he knows his father is out of touch. Whenever he snaps, I stand between Teddy and my husband and Teddy slowly steers me out the room. It's a great system, but his father is getting more and more violent and uncontrollable. He reaches around me to grab Teddy and…

"Teddy, they're coming," I said, "Nothing you do or say will change that."

Teddy held back his tears and simply asked, "Why?"

"Because I won't lose you, too, Teddy. I love you too much."

* * *

(Teddy POV)

I couldn't sleep knowing I was about to lose the most important man in my life in a few hours. I was tempted to go to the living room and hear my mom tell my dad the news. At least she could have told us before! But I couldn't help that, not now. Now, I had to figure out how to say goodbye to my father.

I rolled over in bed and squinted my eyes to read the clock. The clock was still really blurry, but then I remembered that I didn't have my glasses on. I reached on the end of the bed, grabbed them, and put them on. Now, I could read. It's…

11:15

They should have been here already. Well, my mom said eleven or eleven thirty. And my mother said they'd make it a quiet ordeal – those were her exact words, "quiet ordeal." Those words don't even belong together.

"I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE, GOD DAMMIT!" I heard him shout.

"Calm down!" my mother shouted back, "You'll wake Teddy."

"What? You want me to leave without saying goodbye?"

"No, but I don't want him to be scarred for life."

"Funny choice of words…"

"I don't like that look in your eyes," my mom said. I didn't like hearing those words. She usually said that when he was going to lose it. I jumped out of bed and ran to the living room.

"Damn Nazi!" he shouted, randomly punching the air, narrowly missing me even though he didn't see me…yet.

"Stop it!" she shouted, obviously trying to keep dad's focus on her instead of finding me. She looked really scared, and I wondered what dad looked like.

Knock, Knock

"They're here," I announced.

"What?" asked dad, already back. I saw mom sigh in relief, but whether it was in response to dad coming back or the people here to take him away, I couldn't be sure. Dad turned to me. "Teddy, did you know?"

I couldn't answer; I just stared back like an idiot. "Did you know?" he asked again, getting angry.

"Come on, Mr. Duchamp, let's go." I jerked my eyes from my dad and found owner of the voice, but it was too dark to make much detail other than he was a complete stranger.

"Don't tell me what to do!" my dad shouted, "I'll kill ya, I'll kill all ya." Suddenly, I felt mom behind me, holding me just in case she had to pull me behind her.

"Calm down, Mr. Duchamp."

"You're not taking me to the looney bin, damn Nazi!" He lost it again.

"Now, Mr. Duchamp…" The stranger tried to grab dad, but he punched the guy. "I'm going to need backup," said the stranger in his walkie-talkie.

"Backup?" I whispered. I looked at mom. She looked nervous, too.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, "You said this would be…"

"Ma'am, just stand aside and let us do our job. Backup is only a block away."

"What?"

Right then, about five men burst the door, two of them grabbed dad and one started calling the police. "You won't get me alive!" my dad was shouting, but everything was moving so fast, my dad couldn't keep up. "You won't get me alive! I'll show you, Nazis!"

I ran. "Dad! Dad! Come back!"

"Whoa, stay back, kid," said one of the backup crew, a huge man. He grabbed my arm and held me back, but I still tried to run…

"Dad! Wait!" Twisting and writhing. "Dad! Come back! I need to tell you something! Wait! Ow…" The backup man had twisted my arm, forcing me to face him.

"Kid, stay back! It's dangerous! Stay back!"

"Let go of my son!" yelled mom.

"Ma'am—"

"You're not taking me alive!"

"It's dangerous, you understand kid!"

"You're hurting him! You're hurting them!"

"Ma'am calm down!"

"Damn Nazi!"

"Quit moving, kid!"

"Let me go!" I shouted, determined to see my dad, "I need to see him! Let me see him!"

"No! Can't you see your dad has lost it?! He's crazy!"

"This is war, Nazi!"

"I need to talk to him! Let me go!"

"Stop hurting my son!"

"Really, ma'am!"

"Please, let me go…" Then I heard something I had been dreading…

Police sirens

"Why?" I asked, trying not to cry, "Why the police?"

"Stay here, kid." Taking deep breaths, I watched _them_ wrestle my dad outside. My dad still thought that everyone was a Nazi, still doesn't remember my mom…or me.

"People, stay back."

People?

"Come on, stay back."

People? My mom ran past me to the door and I followed. And people were there. People. They were all watching, not helping. The people just watched it like a TV show.

I couldn't take it. "Dad!" I screamed, praying that he would come back, "Dad! Wait!" I ran again and this time, I made it.

"Get away, all of ya!" shouted my dad, "Nazis!"

"Dad!" I grabbed onto to him, but it made him mad. He shouted about Nazis. I just want to say…

"Kid!" Someone grabbed me and lifted me in the air, breaking my grip on dad. "What did I just say in the house?"

"Wait, please! He's going to come back! He will! Dad! Dad!"

"_Poor kid."_

"_Kid's going to end up just like his old man."_

"_Poor wife."_

"_The whole family will end up in a nuthouse."_

People.

"_That man is crazy."_

"_Not as crazy as the kid."_

"_I'm glad that man's finally going to a nuthouse. He needs it."_

"Dad! Please! Come back!" The man finally dropped me and pushed me away among the people.

"Stay there, kid."

"Oh my…"

"_That poor kid."_

"Crazy father…"

"_Poor kid."_

"_Poor thing."_

I desperately looked to mom, but she was frozen; she wasn't moving.

"Mom?" She didn't move; she looked at dad. Dad was still shouting about Nazis, still not remembering. I just wanted to say one thing to him. Just one little thing. "Dad?"

"Poor kid. With a looney for a father…"

People! Why can't they just be quiet? Just so I can tell my dad something. I looked back to dad. They were loading him in the back of the truck. "Dad! Wait! Please!" I shouted pathetically, "Dad! Wait! I want to tell you something!" I broke through the crowd and ran to dad. "Dad! Dad! Wait!"

"What do I keep telling you, kid?"

"Dad, I love you!"

"Damn Nazi!"

The same backup man who grabbed me inside caught the back of my shirt and threw me aside. I sniffled a bit, not crying, and looked at my dad one last time.

He didn't know me. He still hadn't come back.

So I ran…

I ran past the people and their whispers, past my house, past the sirens, past my neighborhood. I just ran and ran and ran, until I couldn't run anymore. And when I couldn't run anymore, I found a quiet alley and fell asleep, without thinking or feeling anything.

* * *

(Teddy POV)

I thought I was dreaming, but the voices were too loud to be part of a dream.

"No! Billy, I'm sorry! I'll never listen in on you again!"

"Too late, Vern!"

"No, really! I'm sorry!"

I turned over, trying to drown out the voices. After a couple more minutes of listening to them say the same thing over and over, I gave up. I sat up and stretched a bit and saw one, two, three faces. I figured the short, fat one was 'Vern' and the other teenager one was 'Billy' from them talking. There was another teenager, but I felt like I knew who he was.

It was Ace. I've never actually met Ace, but he hangs out with Chris's brother and I never go to Chris's house. (He says that his dad is worse than mine—because he isn't "crazy," like mine.) But I could tell it was Ace. He had something about him…

Ace saw me and spoke up, "Hey. Where'd you come from?"

I looked around. And I concluded I had no clue where I was, except that I was in some unfamiliar alley. So, I shrugged.

"What the hell do you mean? You don't know?" he asked, really angry.

"I don't know. I slept here."

"So, what? You're running away?"

"No!"

"Then what?"

I didn't want to explain—that involves thinking about last night, and I didn't want to think about that. So, I didn't answer. Ace was starting to look really frustrated.

"Okay. You look like you're Chris's and Vern's age. You know 'em?"

"I know Chris and I know his brother. He said that his friends called him 'Eyeball.'"

"So, who are you?"

"Teddy."

"Teddy who?" He looked very impatient, but I didn't know why he wanted to know so badly.

"Teddy Duchamp."

"Duchamp?!" exclaimed both Billy and Vern. Billy glared at Vern, but Vern didn't notice.

"I'm sorry about your dad and all," said Vern.

I was shocked. I wasn't expecting anyone to say about that. I thought really hard. This only happened last night. I was pretty sure I only slept one night. So…how could they know?

"Duchamp…As in son to 'Crazy Danny Duchamp'?" said Ace. Even though it was supposed to be a question, it didn't sound like one.

"Not crazy," I said confidently.

"Not crazy?" He laughed to himself. My hands turned into fists. "Not crazy? Where were you last night? By the way, your old man puts on a hell of a show."

I didn't say anything. I felt too angry to say anything.

"Me and my friends really enjoyed it," he said.

I glared, silently daring him to keep talking shit about my dad and what happened last night. I hated it when people talked bad about my dad. No one, not even Chris and Gordie, can really understand my dad. They can't talk like they do and just talk shit when they've haven't done anything remotely worthwhile like my dad storming the beach at Normandy.

"Really," said Ace, "Your dad was a lunatic. I heard rumors about him. He burned your…ear, wasn't it? Yeah, yeah he did. I can see it. See, Teddy, most people don't do that."

"Shut your face!" I shouted.

Ace looked shocked. "Now," he began, Billy started walking toward me, "Did you really mean that?" Vern looked scared.

"Yeah, I did," I said, staring Ace down, "What'cha going do about it?"

At first Ace didn't move, then so suddenly I didn't see it coming, he punched me, hard enough to fall on the ground. I rubbed my cheek and tried to get up, but Ace kicked me down and rested his foot on my stomach. Then he leaned on that foot. "Now, Teddy, why do have to be so rude to me?"

"Why do you have to say stupid shit?" I challenged him. I heard someone gasp, probably that Vern kid.

"I say stupid shit?"

"Yeah, hell, you're shit." I took a deep, shaky breath. Ace was still leaning on me and it was getting hard to breathe.

I heard another gasp. It sounded exactly like the first one. Boy that Vern kid was really squeamish. Before I could think anymore about Vern, I felt someone, probably Ace, grab my hair. I heard another voice, Billy, in my burned ear, "Now, kid, if you call my friend shit, then you call me shit, too."

"Hah, you're- (deep breath) –worse."

"Worse?" I could barely make out Billy moving, but Ace nodded. Billy moved some more and

BAM!

He kicked my ear, my burned ear. The pain brought involuntary tears to my tears and I gasped for breath. I couldn't even say ouch. Ace let go of my hair.

"So," said Ace, "Now, would you mind if I called your daddy the craziest looney I've ever had the shame to lay eyes on."

"Go" (Ace nodded) "suck a-"

BAM!

If my ear had chances of getting better, Billy ruined them all. But this time I managed to say, "Ow." I turned my head to see Billy, but I saw Vern leaving. Then, Ace moved his leg and grabbed my hair, forcing me to stand up.

"Do you want to take it back?" he asked.

"Never."

Ace shrugged and pulled out a lighter. "I'm going to see if I can finish off what your old man started. Billy, hold him still."

I wouldn't be held still. I knew exactly what he was doing.

"Stop it," I said quietly as Ace forced my head to turn. "Stop."

"Nope, you had a chance."

"Stop," I pleaded. I heard him flick the lighter to life. I struggled against their grips, but it was pointless. "Stop, oh please stop."

"What? Did it hurt before?"

"Stop! Stop it!" I screamed. I started remembering things I didn't want to remember… I could feel the heat closer and closer to my ear.

"HEY! STOP!"

Chris! Suddenly the heat went away and my head was free. I looked around and saw that Chris had jumped on Ace's back. I felt Billy loosen his grip on me. I shrugged myself free easily and went to help Chris, who had gotten off of Ace's back by this time. I jumped on Ace's back. I saw Chris punch Billy on the nose (I'm not completely sure how he could reach that high) and Billy fell back. Ace was banging me against the wall to get me off. It started working when he hit my head.

BANG!

I heard a gun shot and everyone froze. As soon as Ace and Billy took in the police, they bolted and I let go of Ace. My head was spinning, but I made out Vern creeping away from the police. He probably had somewhere to be.

"What the hell happened?" asked the police.

Chris spoke up, "Those guys who just ran were beating up my friend." The police wasn't really listening. He was looking at me.

"Aren't you Duchamp?"

My eyes narrowed, already suspicious.

"You're dad's that crazy nut who got taken away last night?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but Chris elbowed me hard. I looked over to him, ready to glare at Chris, but he looked concerned for me. Like he truly cared.

"What happened?"

Mom?

A woman appeared in my line of sight. It was mom. She ran to me and held me in a tight hug. "Oh Teddy," she murmured in my ear. "I was so worried." I heard her gasp, "I thought I lost you, too."

"Mom," I said, feeling tears come to my eyes, "They keep talking bad about dad."

"Shh, Teddy. It's okay. They have no clue what they're talking about."

"Officer?" I heard Chris ask, "Can you take them home?"

The officer must have nodded because he started leading my mom to a police car. She let go of me. I looked to Chris and mouthed 'Thank you' before following my mom…

We didn't say anything until we were inside our house. Mom just looked at me at first, with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, "For running away." She just nodded. I felt tears in my eyes as I realized that mom was the only other person who understood dad.

"Why did he have to be crazy?" I asked, tears flowing freely.

"I don't know, Teddy," she said, hugging me again, "I don't know." She started crying, and then I started crying, too.

Dad wasn't coming back. Mom was all I had left. And there was no way I was going to lose her, too.

* * *

_Author's Comments!_

_Finished, but tired. I'll read through it once, but that's it. I have no clue what Teddy's dad's name is, so I made something up. In case, you're wondering: Vern got both Chris and the police. Then he left, because I had no further use of him. That last line makes the most sense if I post another idea, I've been having for a while. It's on my profile: _Song of a Jailbird._ Guess what it's about? …It's about Teddy's jail time, how and why he got arrested and maybe some parole time, too. Tell me if you want to read it. I've got a prologue typed. _

_So, this is the last of _Teddy's Tears._ Please tell me how you liked it (or disliked it). Every review is welcomed, but I prefer the reviews when you point out a specific aspect of the story. I can't be picky though. So, just review._


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